Pain: The David Gregory Solution

Before we leave the weekend's debates behind, and in keeping with the blog's first rule of economics — Fk The Deficit. People Got No Jobs. People Got No Money. — I would be remiss not to mention the performance on Sunday of Dancin' Dave Gregory, chronic Vineyard vacationer and Beltway King of Pain. He reached an entirely new level of smarm when he asked Jon Huntsman the following question:

Let's talk substance. So Governor Huntsman, name three areas where Americans will feel real pain in order to balance the budget?

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See, you stupid proles. The only "substance" worth talking about is exactly how miserable your lives will have to be made in order to keep The Deficit from eating our children in their beds, and how wretched your existence will have to become so that David Gregory and the people with whom he goes to dinner can think themselves people of serious purpose. And then, even after Huntsman had once again pledged fealty to the economic sadism that is the plan offered by zombie-eyed granny-starver Paul Ryan, which is why Huntsman's position as The Only Sane One is not entirely accurate, Gregory still wasn't satisfied.

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Three programs that will make Americans feel pain, sir?

Jesus H. Christ on a banana boat, you usually have to pay $250 an hour to a nice lady in leather pants to beg for this much pain.

Not his, of course. Nevertheless, Pain is the only solution. However, if the United States goes down the road to austerity, passing the bleached bones of the British, Greek, and Irish economies lying it a ditch along the way, David Gregory and the 31 people whose opinions he values are not going to feel a bit of pain. Pain is for other people. Pain is for the woman who puts the mint on his pillow in the early evening. Pain is for the driver who took him to dinner last night. Pain is for the doorman at the hotel, and for the lady in the gift shop, and for the lesser orders to whom David Gregory, Beltway King of Pain, will explain the simple facts of their miserable lives. Pain is for the people who don't have television programs. Why don't they drop all the pretense, buy a bunch of wigs and knee breeches, and move to Versailles?